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Javert's character sheet
🕑 Added 2019-09-17 03:38:26 +0000 UTCJavert's character sheet is now live, one day later than expected. At roughly 5700 words, it is by far the largest backstory written thus far. It ties together the origins of several other characters, and it reveals some critical plotpoints that will start to matter in the game, come Night Four of the Varanar storyline. Without further ado, here is the safe for work version.
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Part one: Prisoners
Below the mighty keep that sits at the very center of the city of Varanar, a sprawling maze of dungeons, with cells of all sizes and shapes, is host to a wide array of convicts, slowly withering away in the dark, damp hell they call their home. Minor offences are usually settled through bodily punishments or monetary fees; meaning the prison is reserved for only the worst of the criminal scum. Rapists, murderers, traitors, and many others who haven't earned the mercy of a swift death.
Few who enter the dungeons in cuffs, ever end up leaving. Sentence times are often forgotten about, making almost every prisoner a lifetime inmate. And since they know they won't be getting out, most inmates have completely lost hope, falling prey to insanity, which usually leads to their untimely demise.
Besides starvation, suicide is the leading cause of death in the dungeons. Only the lucky, get to have their corpse taken out and buried. The others remain imprisoned, even long after they have passed away. Until their bones slowly turn to dust, will they be held captive. And even then, it'll take a rare gust of wind to scatter their remains across the bleak cell they once lived in.
In the outside world, the law ensures peace, and relatively fair treatment of all those with rights. In the Varanarian dungeon, none of that matters. The guards rule absolute. They decide who lives, and who dies, often demanding ridiculous, humiliating or degrading acts in return for food, water or other necessities.
Not all of the guards are completely unreasonable. For the right price, prisoners can lead decent lives within their confinement. Some would call it corruption, but in the dungeons this phenomenon is known as the prison economy. Thugs who have information to give, money stashes to reveal the location of, or accomplices on the outside that can do some dirty work for the crooked guards, are given preferential treatment over the rest of the scum.
The ones that have the most to give, are provided with lavish feasts, decorated interiors, any women or drugs they so desire, and the freedom to choose their cellmates. Fresh meat is often walked through a hallway filled with these honored guests, so that any interested parties can immediately ask to take the rookie in. Sometimes, this even escalates into small bidding wars, especially when it is a woman being brought in.
Few females ever get put into the dungeons, often receiving penalties in the public stockades instead. One such woman, pregnant nonetheless, was brought in half a century ago. On the king's orders, she was put in a cell all by herself, far away from everyone else. There, she gave birth to a baby boy, which she named Javert. With no father around, the child inherited his mother's last name. Toutemort.
At the time, the young king of humans had seen fit, to hand the barony of Varanar over to a dragon, to maintain the good relationship between the human kingdom, and the draconic empire to the east. As such, many of the wardens roaming the dungeons, were dragons, instead of humans. A group of these out-of-place guards, took a particular interest in the lone woman breastfeeding her baby boy. Word quickly spread. With rising notoriety, came those with ill intent.
And so it was, that the growing Javert bore witness to his mother being abused and beaten, by many of the patrolling squads of well-armed dragons. Like clockwork, they returned multiple times per day, forcing the woman to praise dragonkind for their amusement. If she refused, they'd threaten Javert. She didn't want anything bad to happen to her child. Even at the cost of what was left of her pride.
Years of daily abuse went by. As the woman's resistance faded, the dragons grew ever-more violent, trying to get a rise out of her, to fuel their sadistic urges. One day, things went overboard. A choke-happy guard squeezed her supple neck a little too hard. A loud snap signalled the end of the woman's life, as Javert watched on in horror.
The remorseless guards, only keeping the boy around to threaten his mother with, decided that it'd be best to let him die out on the streets, than having to stand his incessant wailing over the dead whore. The kid was grabbed, escorted out of the dungeon, promptly kicked out of the keep, and into the streets, the bright daylight making it hard to see. Mere minutes after the death of his mother, he was all alone in the middle of a city he'd lived in for his entire life, yet he had never laid his half-blinded eyes upon it.
Part two: Street rats
Javert aimlessly wandered the streets, weeping profusely over the loss of the one person he held dear. His entire world had been torn away from him, replaced by the alien sensation of freedom. Come nightfall, the exhausted boy collapsed in an alleyway. While prison was anything but warm, nothing could have prepared him for a cold winter night spent outside. He would have frozen to death, were it not for the ragged pieces of his mother's torn clothing, draped around his shivering frame.
Come morningtime, the first rays of sunlight offered slight solace from the icy frigidness. Hunger setting in, the young boy began to beg for scraps of food. But, in a time of little excess, there was naught to spare for a street urchin like Javert. The poor lacked the means to assist, the middle class had no time to help, and the rich were cold and heartless as ever. Javert ended up eating even less than he did in the dungeon. Which is to say: nothing.
Days passed. While the child had found some new ways to keep warm at night -- mostly burning old, discarded wooden boxes -- his malnourishment was reaching critical levels. So weak he could barely even walk anymore, delirious from lack of sustenance, Javert stumbled into the one part of town he had deliberately avoided until then. The kobold district. The one place, where he could perhaps find someone less fortunate than he was.
Kobolds wasting away in the squalor of the slummiest part of town was business as usual, but a starving human wandering the decrepit back-alleys, was a rare sight, for sure. By the simple virtue of being a kobold, many of the lizards who called this place home couldn't dream of living a better life than they already were. But to see a human brought so low, as to hobble into hell looking for handouts, gave them a smug sense of satisfaction. For once in their short and insignificant lives, the lowest of the low had found someone even worse off than they.
The myriad of gangs wandering the slums saw no point to mugging or antagonizing the boy. He had nothing worth of value, and there was no fun to be had in bullying someone too weak to fight back. To Javert's great surprise, the lizards showed more compassion than his own people had. While they had nothing to give, at least they tolerated his presence, moreso than the merchants and the guards in the rest of the city.
At the end of yet another day of suffering and hunger, the owner of one of the few local businesses, a tavern, invited the child inside. While wary of dealing with strangers, especially those of another species, Javert had nothing left to lose. He accepted the invitation, and was greeted with open arms, and a bowl of warm sludge, remotely resembling soup. Not having eaten in almost a week, the boy voraciously devoured the broth, especially savoring the thick chunks of mystery meat contained within.
The kobold that ran the place was a smart one. It saw the long-term benefits, in befriending a human. The street-rat was offered a deal, the same deal that, decades later, would be presented to a certain red-scaled fighter. In return for some minor work, he could stay at the tavern overnight, and he'd be fed one bowl of slop per day. Far more than he'd be able to get on his own.
There wasn't much of a choice to be made, between starving and freezing to death, or sweeping the floor and doing some chores. And so, the young Javert became the only human employee in the entire kobold district. He spent his days serving drinks, helping his boss cook food, cleaning the place, and munching down his daily serving of soup.
Over time, the boy grew into a young man. The bigger he got, the more his duties shifted away from tidying, towards becoming the bouncer of the kobold tavern. Having someone twice the size of the average patron around, worked wonders to uphold the peace. Even when drunk off their asses, most of the patrons realized that a fist fight with a human could only end poorly for them. The few that did cause trouble, were quickly and decisively dealt with.
This is how Javert got his first taste of dispensing justice. Fisticuffs with drunken kobolds, as the rest of the tavern cheered on. While tempers ran high, it was all in good spirits, at the end of the day. What wasn't all fun and games, however, was the monthly ransom his boss had to pay, to keep the dominant local gang off his back. While beating up inebriated tiny lizards was easy enough, there was little a lone, unarmed man could do against an entire group of well-equipped thugs, no matter their size.
But, as long as the aging bartender paid his dues, there was nothing to fear. A more pressing concern, was the elderly lizard's personal health. More and more often did he fall ill, passing the torch onto his daughter, who thoroughly despised Javert, since her father seemingly liked the human more than he did his own child. As soon as the old man kicked the bucket, the young man was back on the streets.
Part three: Guardsmen
Begging didn't work out too well, all those years ago, and he wasn't about to go back to starving in the streets. Javert needed a job. A way to provide for himself. For a brief moment, he considered becoming muscle-for-hire for the kobold gangs. But he didn't like them very much, and especially hated how they heckled the few lizards that tried to improve the slums, instead of festering in the filth.
On the verge of offering himself to the same group that extorted his previous boss, the human espied a poster, hanging off the side of a building, right outside of the kobold district.
FREE STAY
DAILY MEALS
EARN MONEY
ARMORY ACCESS
KEEP THE CITY SAFE
SERVE AND PROTECT
JOIN THE GUARDS OF VARANAR
RECRUITMENT EVERY MONDAY AT NOON
AT THE GUARDHOUSE NEAR THE EAST GATE
Alas, never having had a formal education, Javert could not decypher the clear-cut writing. He'd never been taught how to read. While he didn't know what the poster said, some primal instinct, perhaps the call of fate itself, made the words speak to him, in a language he could not understand. Thank goodness destiny had more than one ace up its sleeve. A coincidentally passing guard explained that they were hiring. Try-outs were just a few hours away.
The maturing lad rushed to the eastern gatehouse, having to stop several times to ask for directions along the way. He'd long since refashioned the scraps of clothing that he wore, into a rather revealing loincloth. Fitting, for the kobold district, but not so much outside of it. The ladies he passed, frequently stared at his bare behind. But it was not them he had to impress. It was the drill sergeant.
Joining the small group of other men, from all walks of life, who wanted to join the guardsmen, Javert took a moment to get acquainted with them. There was a lazy farmer who'd lost his plot, a scraggy feline who was sick and tired of cat jokes, an old man who had worked hard his whole life, only to be out of a job at the dusk of his day, and a child half Javert's age, who was only there because his parents had sent him.
But the recruiter didn't care about their life stories. It wasn't his job to judge who this rag-tag band of misfits were. He was merely there to ensure the minimum of quality was met. And so, the applicants were made to do push-ups, sit-ups, a bit of running, and ultimately, they were made to wrestle one another, as was tradition. The old man had a heart-attack during the running segment. He did not make it back home. The child was too fearful to join the wrestling event. He ran back to his parents, having learned his lesson.
Only Javert, the farmer, and the cat were left. The drill sergeant nicknamed each of them: the savage, the bum and the pussy. The wrestling itself was a clear victory for Javert, the frequent bar brawls having perfectly prepared him for this very moment. The feline and the peasant were equally matched, although a cheap blow eventually settled their fight in the cat's favor. All three of them were hired.
After a trip to the guard-stationed hairdresser, the three were shipped off to the armory, where they were armed with a weapon of their choice, and draped in tabarded chainmail, flying the banner of the barony of Varanar. They enjoyed their first complimentary meal in the cantina, getting to know one another a bit better. Come nightfall, the rookies were shoved into a set of barracks. This is where they would relax, in between shifts. And relaxing soon turned to sleeping.
Come morningtime, the sergeant screamed all three of the newbies awake. They were made to dress up in the gear they'd received, and then they were kicked out into the streets. When Javert asked what exactly they were supposed to do, the only answer he received was: patrol until nighttime. Without any knowledge of the law, the trio set out to wander the streets, looking for ways to keep the peace.
Half a day passed without them encountering anything out of the ordinary. Their eyes were not yet trained to detect crime. Then came the wonderful idea to split up. The cat assigned himself to the mercantile quarter. The farmer patrolled the residential area. And Javert, clueless as ever, decided to tread where no guard had walked before: the kobold district.
Sentries never dared set foot in these devious slums, with danger all around, death lurking behind every dark and brooding corner. But the human didn't see it that way. To him, this was his home. This was where he was grew up. He knew several of the kobolds he passed on the streets. Heck, he'd fought half of them. These tiny lizards, were the closest thing to a family that he had.
But there were others who did not appreciate the gazing eye of the law in their midst. Stepping into a dead-end alleyway, Javert's exit was blocked by a group of kobold thugs. They were clearly not in the mood to talk. And so, for the first time ever, the rookie guardsman drew his chosen weapon: a broadsword, whose previous owner did not fare so well.
While fighting in the cramped confines of the kobold district was no easy task, the human showed an innate, instinctual talent, an affinity towards sword fighting. The kobolds came at him with daggers, but with his arm stretched out, he managed to keep them at bay. A few quick, yet powerful slashes were all it took to disarm the majority of the group. The rest ran away with their tails between their legs, realizing there were no easy pickings to be had here.
Using his guard-issued rope, Javert tied the remaining kobolds together. After collecting their crude weaponry, he marched them back to the guardhouse, where he was met with the unbelieving eyes of the sergeant that had sent him off this morning. The other two had returned empty-handed. Yet here Javert was, with half of an entire gang detained. The minor scratches he had sustained while in combat, was all the proof that was needed, to put the kobolds behind bars. The irony of sentencing others to the same fate that his mother endured, was lost on the glory-hounding human.
And so, just about every day went. As his skill in the blade grew, bigger and meaner groups attempted to assail the kobold district's only guardsman. While he was stabbed through his chainmail once or twice, they never managed to subdue him completely. Varanar's prison swelled with kobold criminals, most of which did not last long on the inside.
However, as weeks turned into months, Javert began to notice something unusual. The leader of the groups that attempted to ambush him, were seemingly always the same tenacious individuals. How were they getting out of jail so easily? The answer was revealed, when one particularly dumb lizard ran his mouth, bragging about how his master would have him walking free again in a matter of days.
That is when Javert realized what was going on. Kobolds, even when grouped together in gangs, were naught but petty criminals. Thieves and burglars, bandits at best. Not at all the kind that would openly attack a guardsmen, not even one in the middle of the kobold district. On top of that, they weren't typically smart enough to run extortion schemes on their own. There was someone pulling the strings. Javert set out to find who that was.
Dragons. The answer was always a dragon. Behind every criminal group in the kobold district, there was a wealthy and powerful merchant backing them, paying off corrupt wardens to free key players from prison, when they got caught. A lone guardsman could hardly go after the most powerful people in Varanar. His investigation, had reached a dead end.
Part four: The captain
That is, until the very captain of the guard took note of Javert. The aging man was retiring, and he wanted to pass his banner down to the most energetic and inspirational guard in town. The draconic baron protested, but it was not a noble's decision to make. Thus, Javert became the leader of the guards of Varanar. And with the new resources at his command, he knew just what to do.
There were many guards. Too many. First order of business was to weed out the weak. The recruitment scheme was revised, to only let in fit and capable men. Anyone who did not meet these new criteria, was promptly discharged. Every guard was to be lectured in the ways of the law, and properly trained by going on several supervised tours of duty.
At first, these changes made Javert quite unpopular. But, one thing he did, rallied the troops to his side. Since there were less guards now, and most of the costly educational courses were dealt with, he could allocate more funds to the thing most sentries valued most: their wallet. Salaries were increased across the board, the discipline and fairness of the Varanarian guards was hailed across the kingdom, and Javert was dubbed the greatest captain the city had ever seen, much to the dismay of the baron.
Now that the ranks had been prepared, it was time to bring law and order to the kobold district. For the first time in the city's history, patrols headed by the captain himself passed through the nest of lawlessness. Some kobolds were arrested, and others shot dead by way of righteous crossbow bolts. Evidence was gathered, and allegations were made. Alas, even as the captain of the guard, Javert soon discovered that the law was not enough to take down the masterminds behind the kobold gangs.
Still, increased operating costs, reduced personnel, and the damage to their public image, dissuaded a lot of the crime lords. The captain's approach worked, in the sense that it made the kobold district a much nicer place to be, for the tiny lizards that called it their home. Without leadership, the gangs returned to their roots of petty crime. It was this void of organization, that a certain deformed rat would later make use of, to rise to a position of power of his own.
But merchants were not the only ones in charge of the groups of kobold bandits. One night, while sleeping in his well-decorated room, Javert was awoken by the creaking of the floorboards. A kobold had snuck into his room, and was mere moments away from plunging its poisoned dagger into the human's heart. A quick kick turned the tide, and after snatching the weapon from mid-air, it was the kobold that met its end.
On the body of the lizard, Javert found a note. A missive, penned by someone most prominent, indeed. The gilded wax stamp at the very bottom confirmed the captain's suspicions. The assassin, was sent by the draconic baron himself.
Rallying his troops, the guardsmen stormed the keep. In the king's throne, there sat the treacherous dragon. But the ruler of all humans, awoken from his slumber by the commotion, stopped Javert before he could end the baron's life. The dragon was de-throned, and the king's men themselves exiled the backstabbing noble. To reward him for bringing this corruption to light, Javert was to be rewarded in an exceptional manner. He would become the new baron of Varanar.
Part five: The baron
An exuberant ceremony crowned in the new ruler of the land, who passed down the role of captain of the guard, to the feline he had been recruited alongside of. It was then, that the human learned, that life as the baron, is a far cry away from being a member of the guard. Several times, he had to be reminded that going out and patrolling the streets himself was not befitting of a man of his stature. Instead, he was to rule the land by convening with other prominent nobles, including the king himself.
Even more rules. Even more legislation. He tried, again and again to go after those very same dragons he was incapable of apprehending as the captain of the guard, but they had long since washed their hands clean, cutting ties with the kobold district, paving the way for a new wave of crime lords to rise to the top. And there was nothing Javert could do about it. The cat that succeeded him as the captain of the guard, was a little lesscapable than the human had judged him to be. Again, the quality of recruits dropped, corruption was on the rise, and the kobold district returned to being the wild, lawless land it once was.
Things remained this way, until the king decided to go on a crusade, to atone for a misdeed he refused to divulge about. In the ruler's absence, Javert held absolute power over Varanar. The king was a stern supporter of the dragons, but now that he had left, the other nobles were far more keen on speaking up against the draconic menace. The baron found that a lot of his servants shared the same sentiments that he did. Just about everyonethought of dragons, as little more than crooked bastards, crowding the upper class, barring other species from rising to greatness on their own account.
Colluding with one another, the human nobles, backed by the baron himself, passed a series of new laws, which systematically reduced the presence of dragons in the council that ruled the land. This attracted a lot of attention from those who sympathized with the ostracized aristocrats. When a wine taster fell dead, a few minutes after taking a sip of Javert's cup, an investigation was launched.
The poison contained within was traced back to an aging alchemist. An owl, hailing from the lands of the dragons. Again, and again, he attempted to assassinate the current ruler of the land, although the spies watching his every move ensured he never succeeded. Javert refused to have the bird arrested, hoping that one day, they could find evidence that the assassin was working on behalf of the dragon emperor himself.
Evidence was never found. The owl's carrier pigeons were too small and nimble to be shot from the sky. He must have been feeding them some of his potions. Besides, there were other things to worry about. The king of the closest of the dragon realms, had sent his daughter to the court of Javert. A grave mistake, sending a vulnerable young girl into the beating heart of the human resistance movement. On the baron's orders, she was beaten, frequently and repeatedly, serving as an outlet for the growing hatred towards the dragons as a whole.
But, as was always the case, politics and laws prevented Javert from enacting the culmination of his rulership. There were two main decrees, that he had been pushing for ever since the king had left his keep. Both caused great controversy within the council, and even after half a decade of debates, the room was still split in half, as to whether or not to pass the new laws.
First and foremost, the baron wanted to strip dragons of all their rights. To make them little more than overgrown kobolds. Their great wealth and stature would be up for grabs, thus restoring the balance of power in Varanar, to the humans that had built the bloody city. But to enact such a decree, would be tantamount to declaring war on the dragon empire. And war could not be declared, without the king being present.
The second of Javert's radical proposals, was to grant rights to kobolds. At first, the mere notion shocked the council when it was proposed. But, the reasoning behind it was sound. If dragons are stripped of rights, then humans will flourish, effectively nullifying the entire current lower class, elevating them from poverty by the virtue of distributed riches.
This would leave a void. A demand for cheap labour, far too big for the slave trade alone to fill. If they make the tiny lizards proper citizens, there will be no more taboo around hiring them. They can become the new lower class. If directed, they can easily grow to be soldiers, or guards or masons or carpenters. Simple, easy jobs that don't require much thinking. And thanks to their numbers, they can work for far cheaper than the current lower class does. Everyone profits.
Plus, thanks to presence of the dragoness princess in their midst, the men of the council had already felt what it was like, to own a dragon slave. Would they rather have one of her, or a kobold to do their bidding? Especially that last part, won over a lot of noblemen. Sure, there were a few dragon slaves here and there, but they were far more rare, and ludicrously expensive compared to kobold underlings. The same men that agreed to the notion of stripping dragons of rights, were on board with granting those very rights, to kobolds instead.
Part six: The king
In his free time, Javert secretly hired a tutor, to teach him how to read and how to write, in the utmost of confidentiality. It was hard, to learn these things at his age, but gradually, the baron rose from illiteracy. As an assignment, his mentor had told him to pick a book from the royal library, and read it to completion. It is in that very library, that the baron found something, that was best left hidden.
A regal diary, penned by the king of all humans himself. One of the servants must have accidentally put it in the library, mistaking it for a borrowed book. In it, Javert read about how the king, while unmarried, was frequently entertained by all kinds of women. A very relatable entry, as the baron himself was keen on night-time company. However, the king then wrote about a woman that was pregnant, and claimed the child was his. Not wanting to deal with the scandal of having a premarital baby, he condemned the woman to the dungeon.
Further passages detail how the ruler of all of mankind, had kept a close eye on Javert, ever since the illegitimate son had joined the city guard. They always did bear some resemblance. In private, the king influenced the captain of the guard, to pass the title down to the unrecognized heir of the throne, hoping that would keep Javert out of danger.
Alas, it had the opposite effect. He really did have his father's overzealous attitude. When the bastard-captain threatened the then-baron, instead of siding with the ruling party, the king opted to usher his kin into nobility, at the risk of drawing the ire of dragons. In more recent years, the guilt of leaving Javert out of the loop, began to weigh heavy on the king's mind. And so, he set out on a crusade he knew he would never return from.
These revelations thoroughly shocked the baron. He was the heir to the throne?! Heck, with his father all but confirmed to be dead, he should be crowned the king! Yes. That was it. A plan formed in his mind. He should become the new king. And when he does ascend, he can see the realm prosper, or die trying.
Convening with the other rulers of the land, revealing what the king had written, Javert gathered support for his cause. A war was brewing. New tools were being created, ones the dragons were too stubborn to use. Black powder-based weaponry. Guns, that were easy to use, required little strength, and could pierce even the toughest of armor. Perfect to put in the hands of feeble kobolds.
In secret, the baron began to train a new kind of army. While too weak to operate crossbows, to draw longbows, or to serve in the front lines, kobolds were numerous enough to form entire legions. And a thousand angry little lizards, armed with guns, could easily match a more traditional dragon detachment. They would fight, in return for rights being granted to their entire kind, when all was said and done.
But war is a costly affair. Shipments of guns were exceedingly expensive, let alone the sky-high price of the small amount of cannons that were forged. In order to afford his revolution against all of dragonkind, Javert needed more money. A lot more money. But he'd already taxed the population of Varanar to its very limits. Any more, and he'd face uprisings.
Then, a wicked idea crossed his mind. Those gangs that extorted the tavern he worked for, when he was young. They made a lot of gold for their draconic masters. The kobold district, in general, remained untaxed. Perhaps it was time for them to pay, for a war that would only end up benefitting them.
In place of the dragon-led gang warfare of old, there was now a somewhat-unified group of kobold thugs that dominated the criminal side of the city. The Three-Tailed Rat Clan. The leader of the group was captured. He refused to cooperate, and was thus imprisoned in his own personal dungeon, far underneath the old, decrepit coliseum. Their second in command was easily bribed. Instead of following the rat's orders, he now reported to the baron directly.
While having a new source of kobolds to recruit from was nice, the criminal flow of revenue wasn't nearly enough to cover the expenses of mustering troops. Frustrated to find that there wasn't that much profit to be had in extorting the poor, the baron decreed that the Three-Tailed Rat Clan was to raise their fees, all across the board. He needed more. More than the kobolds alone could give.
In his desperation, another plan was forged. Criminals. Bandits. Thugs. He'd offer them amnesty. A return to society, with no strings attached. All they had to do, was partake in a new kind of tax collection. With the consent of local lords, who were promised a cut of the profits, groups of outlaws raided towns, collecting riches with which to fund the war.
Javert was getting closer to his goal. He needed just a teensy bit more. He'd already emptied the royal coffers, spending his father's gold on behalf of the realm. A tour of his growing armory, was all it took, for the lords that supported him in the council, to chip in their worth. He was so close to affording
The final few thousands of coins, came from a surprising source. Grabgold Senior, one of the most prolific dragons in the world of organized crime in Varanar, contributed to the cause. All he knew, was that the baron was planning some kind of war. And war could be a very profitable thing, for people like Grabgold. Without knowledge of the plan to strip dragons of rights, he blindly tossed his money onto the growing pile.
And thus, the stage is set, for Javert's war to begin. Exiling the dragoness princess, who has been reduced to serving as little more than an unpaid chambermaid, is only the first blow he strikes against dragonkind. In a few days, he will be crowned king. And then, neither council nor law, will suffice to protect the treacherous dragons from his wrath. They will pay for their crimes, both small and large. It is time for the humans, to take back what is rightfully theirs. And with kobold by their side, they will fight to reclaim their position, as the rulers of this land.
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For the NSFW version of both the story and the art, please visit the character sheets page at http://koboldadventure.com/charsheet/index.html
Anyway, this might be the last full-length character sheet that will be made. I haven't decided yet. Either way, there aren't that many characters left, of which I can say anything meaningful without coming up with things for the sake of having an interesting backstory.
The previous poll was won by the rescuing path. So, that is what I will spend (at least) the coming week creating. But first, a small break, for a day or two. A new piece of art has been added to the coming home (late) scene.
As usual, I'm pretty tired. Shirts were sent out a while ago. I haven't yet gotten to sending out tracking numbers, but I'll get on that hopefully tomorrow. And that's all I have to say for now. Thank you all for your continued interest in Kobold Adventure, and I'll see you next time, on the KoShow.
Comments
Vallahd
So... I'm getting very strong Hitler vibes from this. Not saying he isn't justified, but his plan is way too broad strokes for it to be moral in any real way
